


I Wonder What This Button Does

by skywalker_39



Category: My Chemical Romance, Pencey Prep
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flashbacks, Insanity, M/M, Murder, Pencey Prep!Frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalker_39/pseuds/skywalker_39
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is a murderer at nineteen. Mikey is a trembling, muttering mess at sixteen. When they find a mysterious button, they wonder if they could one day live the life they’ve always wanted to live; one with a nice wife, kids, and a nice home. It doesn’t seem like it’s probable with their records longer than Fall Out Boy song titles, all the while battling dreams and flashbacks from a time that they don’t want to remember. After being discharged and sent home, they cope with life behind the public eye, even making new friends along the way. Can they transition from institution life to normal life, or will they be stuck forever in between?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wonder What This Button Does

We were lucky enough to be put in the same holding cell together. Most brothers wouldn't even be put in the same institution, let alone be put as roommates.  
"You need to eat all of your food, Gerard," the nurse explained as I refused my lunch, a disgusting slop in which I have no say in what goes in it. "It makes you strong and healthy!"  
"Strong and healthy? I don't even know what it is!" I looked to my brother in the seat next to me, who had already eaten his food and was trembling, mumbling something to himself. I do admit; I was sorry for him. His mumbling and lividity hadn't gotten better since we got here. It was worse.  
I just stood up and walked out, wanting to just go to sleep; I didn't want to deal with the creepy enthusiasm of the nurses, or the daily pills, and even shots, which really scared me. I wasn't exactly fond of needles.  
"Gerard, we can't leave yet! You need to wait with Mikey until you're dismissed." The nurse spoke to me as if I were a toddler as she grabbed my arm.  
I closed my eyes and nodded, not wanting to get cited for leaving, since it would increase the time I would have to stay here.  
So I listened. "Mikey," I said, tapping my brother on the shoulder. "How was your morning?" I already knew how his morning went. I just wanted for him to feel like someone was there for him.  
"It was...g-good, Gerard." He smiled up at me. I could see that the glimmer in his eyes were genuine; it was as if his eyes screamed, 'Gerard, my morning was great!'  
I struck up a simple conversation about Iron Maiden, which lasted us until we had to go back to our room.  
"...but no matter how old Number of the Beast gets, I'll always love it!" Mikey plopped himself onto his bed.  
I wondered if it was a coincidence that whenever he talked about music, he was confident; he never stuttered. "Yeah, it's a good song."  
Our beds were on opposite sides of the small room. I'd always wondered why we didn't have one of those rad bunk beds, but I realised that, in a mental institution, someone could get killed on those things.  
"G-Gerard?" Mikey's voice was trembling again.  
"Yeah?"  
"W-What's...under y-your bed?" He pointed to the small space between my bed and the floor.  
"What do you mean, Mikey?"  
"There's a...b-box or something under there."  
"A box?" I crawled off my bed and got down on all fours to peek into the dark space.  
In the corner was a box, just like Mikey said. It looked like a ring box, but when I opened it, there was a small red button.  
"It's...a button." I said, showing it to Mikey. "It couldn't have been here before lunch, because we cleaned our beds; this somehow ended up here while we were eating!"  
"W-What do you think it does?"  
"I don't know," I said, setting it down on our small table. "I don't want to know what it does. What if it kills someone? That wouldn't exactly look good on my record."  
Mikey laughed, exposing his white teeth. "Maybe it's an ejector, and wh-when we press it, we can g-go home."  
"You're lucky you'd even have a home to go back to," I muttered bitterly. Mikey was only sixteen. I was nineteen, already an adult and quite ready to go on with what would have been a normal life. "Mom and Dad wouldn't want me back home after what I did."  
"Of c-course they would, Gee, they're our p-parents."  
"They wouldn't want a murderer in their home, whether I'm their son or not!" My voice rose with every syllable.  
I must have frightened him, because when I looked back at him, he was wrapped up in his bedsheets, crying, muttering something about Crate brand amps.  
Looking down at my hands, I sighed. I could pick a stranger off the street and ask them if I looked like a murderer and they would laugh and walk away, not bothering to even consider my truthful question. In everyone's eyes, I was just a kid.  
And kids aren't murderers, are they?  
\---  
ONE YEAR LATER...  
I sigh, letting an old penny I'd found earlier today slide along my palm.  
Other than the colour of my pale face and mousy brown hair, this penny was pretty much the only colour in the room.  
Everything else was fresh and white.  
No matter how many times this room is bleached, the smell of despair and captivity will never leave me. Even if it is only in my head.  
I look across the room at Mikey. He had lost his glasses this past month, and has never spoken since. Neither us or our parents could afford to buy a new pair. Either that or our parents just don't care.  
All I know is that seeing Mikey silently sit on his bed and stare at the wall all day is much more alarming than if he had rampaged and gotten over it.  
I honestly have no idea what he sees when he opens his eyes every morning, so I can't speak on his behalf.  
My eyes meet Mikey's.  
I expect him to blink angrily and look away, but instead he stares right back at me. Not rudely, but curiously and...thoughtfully.  
He opens his mouth, seeming unsure of himself.  
"Happy birthday, Gerard."  
And he pulls his bedsheets up over his head and turns away from me, his mattress squeaking.  
Birthday.  
My birthday?  
At that moment, a nurse clangs through the door, making me jump. I quickly slip the penny into a slit in my mattress.  
"Happy birthday, Gerard!" She squeals, making me cringe. She's obviously new at this job.  
She hands me a sliver of vanilla cake, its blue icing contrasting greatly from my surroundings, almost to the point where it burns my eyes.  
I stare at it.  
She sits next to me on my bed, her piercing green eyes digging into my soul. In her hand, she holds a plastic spoon.  
Scooping up some of the cake, she brings it towards my lips, and I lean away. Frustrated, she tries to force it into my mouth, but instead she stabs my nose.  
"I-I don't want to eat it!" I push her away. "I don't want it!" I press my fingers to my throbbing, frosting-covered nose.  
She nods. "I'm sorry...I just..."  
Her eyes meet mine. She looks away. "I didn't know. If I could just...leave this..."  
She presses a piece of paper to my palm.  
I notice just how warm her hands are compared to mine. How lively she is compared to me. How dignified she is. And for a second, I wish I was more like her. Free to live her life the way she chooses.  
Then, she's gone.  
Mikey seemed to have slept through this ordeal, or ignored it entirely.  
I keep my eyes locked on the Michael-shaped lump in his sheets as I open the piece of paper the nurse gave me.  
At first, the tech-y words don't make any sense to me.  
As they start to put themselves together, I laugh almost hysterically, throwing my pillow at Mikey.  
"Mikey, get the fuck up! We're going home!"

**Author's Note:**

> Sucky first chapter, I'm sorry. Still figuring out AO3. Besides, give me some credit for writing this whole chapter on the browser of my phone!  
> And don't worry--the story's gonna start coming together next chapter.
> 
> xSkylar


End file.
